This is love and nothing else

At home, the conversation about him stopped, but on the main street of the small town, everyone was talking about him. At first, the words were unintelligible, but the closer Adelard approached the crowd, the more clearly he heard their words. And at the head of them was Madame Lucy. Her yellow dress was like the sun and Adelard could easily see her through the crowd that was desperately trying to look alike. Surrounded by small houses of orange and brown, the people of almost the whole town stood and listened to the words about Adelard with admiration and rapture. They spoke of just Adelard, the man, and it was their truth, hope, and meaning.

When Madame Lucy saw him among the crowd, standing modestly beside an older man, she shouted, "Adelard, dear!"

The applause was louder than Adelard expected. He didn't even notice how he ended up next to Madame Lucy.

"What's going on here?" he managed to ask before the crowd of reporters started asking him questions.

Specifically, just one question.

"Monsieur, do you always help people?" asked a young journalist with very large and surprised eyes.

"Monsieur, you helped your friend. You bought a whole farm. Tell me, what is your purpose?" asked another journalist, who was a young girl in an almost masculine suit.

"What is my purpose? What do you mean?"

"You buy everybody what they need. You're always rushing to help. Tell me why?" That was a question no one had ever asked him before.

Standing among people, he suddenly felt dizziness.

Noticing this, Madame Lucy took him by the arm and asked, "What's wrong with you?"

But he went on to say, "I'm helping because I can help. My answer is simple. I have the ability to help. That's all."

"You bought an entire farm when Madame Lucy, a simple farmer, had a crisis. What is your connection with Madame Lucy? She has three children, after all!"

And then everyone started making even louder noise and even arguing.

"Why did you do all this?" he asked in a whisper, no longer able to stand in the hot sun. And with his gaze, he searched for two things: at least one cloud and Celeste.

Madame Lucy, standing proudly in front of everyone, said, "Adelard is my best friend! He's my everything. But alas, he is not mine. He loves his freedom too much to be mine forever. But what he has done for me and my family is the truest happiness. I am and always will be happy because, I have a friend like Adelard in my life."

"Monsieur helps everyone and always! He bought a whole farm! And yet this Madame is nobody to him. She's not even his girlfriend!"

"Believe me, I just couldn't keep quiet. I don't know how to thank you and that's all I can do. Everyone should know that an angel lives among them," Madame Lucy said, putting her arm around his shoulders. "Look at them. Let them know."

"I don't need all this noise. If you want to thank me, just go home and make sure your children have a better future."

"Monsieur Adelard, a very real angel!" Madame Lucy suddenly shouted and raised his hand up as if he had won the duel.

Applause was all that had always surrounded him since he was a child. And every time he was in the midst of a crowd of people, he felt awkward and even ashamed. But what could he be ashamed of?

"Smile. Tomorrow, you'll be on the front page of the paper," Madame Lucy said, not letting go of his hand.

"I didn't do anything. It's not like I saved a dying man," he said loud enough for the man behind him to hear. It was Arthur, the same friend of Suzanne's with whom he had been lying on the bridge looking up at the stars.

"Now, that's not true. You saved a man who was already dying. Do you remember that young man? I think his name is Gaspard. Where is he now?" he asked.

"Gaspard? He's still weak. Though, to be honest, I'd completely forgotten about him. He's still in my house. How embarrassing that turned out to be. Mathilde and Mary must have been taking care of him all this time. And I didn't even ask how he was. At night, I could hear him coughing. I guess he's still weak."

"You're just impossible. You brought a man into the house and you don't even know anything about him. And you've managed to even forget about him. How strange. Adelard, you're an angel, you're a kind man and at the same time, you're just a strange man."

"Strange? How can you say that?!" Madame Lucy shouted at him and waved her hand. But Arthur only laughed.

"How much people love you."

"Who is he? I don't like him," Madame Lucy said and studied him nervously from head to toe.

"Suzanne and I are leaving tomorrow. In fact, we'd leave today. But for some reason, Susanne wanted to stay another day." Walking up to him, Arthur smiled and said to everyone, "I'm his best friend. Or what am I to you, dear?"

"Dear? What does that mean?" someone immediately shouted.

"Go away," Lucy said, making very angry look.

"Madame, what have I done wrong? You look at me like you want to kill me," Arthur said, finding this whole situation funny.

"Arthur, I'll say goodbye to you tomorrow."

"So you're not coming with us?"

"Maybe next time," Adelard said and suddenly, unexpectedly, his gaze fell upon the most beautiful face this world had ever seen.

Celeste was standing far away from the crowd, holding a basket of laundry.

Without saying anything, Adelard regained his wings and this time, the flight didn't scare him. And he left everyone behind. With a slight thrill, he headed towards his love.

Celeste, the girl who was still a mystery, saw him and smiled slightly. And there was something strange about that smile, but to Adelard, it was the most beautiful smile in the whole world. And yet it is ironic after all. When one falls in love, the whole world seems so less than ideal to him or her, that only one person can create that ideal. There is something scary and unpleasant about this truth. But alas, everyone is too busy exalting the object of their sighs.

And so, Adelard dared to be brazen today. Grabbing her hand, he walked in quick strides toward the house that stood at the very end of the street, where several houses made their own world. The world which was fenced off from the rest by sheets that dried in the wind.

Only when they were far enough away, Adelard let go of her hand and said, "I'm sorry." Expecting a harsh response from this mysterious girl, he lowered his head and stared silently at the ground, at the small stones that created the trails. But today was indeed a happy day. Instead of saying what she was thinking, she said what she was feeling.

Namely, "I'm very glad to see you."

Adelard, experiencing strange feelings and pain too, could no longer support the weight of his body. Leaning against the wall of the house, he closed his eyes and just stood there like a statue.

Celeste, seriously looking at him, said, "Monsieur Adelard, so that's who you are."

Adelard could not immediately open his eyes to say anything. Yes, it was the most ordinary love, before which all words are meaningless.

"Why are you acting this way? You know you are a very strange man, don't you?" she asked, opening the small wooden door. Adelard, having come to his senses, continued to stand in the same spot. He liked this street, where he had never walked on before. It was as if this part of town had been forgotten. A place between three-story houses. And at the very center was an area surrounded by flowers and clean laundry. And all the windows of the houses were open, thus allowing the neighbors to hear what was being said in this or that apartment.

Celeste, without taking her eyes off him suddenly said, "Come inside. I don't want you to get sick right outside. There are journalists walking around, after all." Next, Adelard's mind went blank. He didn't think, he just felt. He wasn't looking, he was admiring.

And even when the cold, one-room apartment greeted him with the strange smell of rain, he continued to smile and admire the most beautiful creature.

"This is my home. This is where I was born and continue to live. And I like it here very much," Celeste said, proudly looking at a picture of possibly her parents. "I invited you because you look like you're about to faint."

Clutching his shirt like a frightened child, Adelard didn't know how to act or where to sit. Under Celeste's scrutiny, he really was ready to faint at any second.